


Be still my heart

by snipsnsnailsnwerewolftales



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-05-12 09:04:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5660638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snipsnsnailsnwerewolftales/pseuds/snipsnsnailsnwerewolftales
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Does she have what it takes?”<br/>They all looked at one another, before Stiles spoke with an evil grin. “There’s a reason we call her Twister, sir. She bends like the board game, but is as ferocious as the funnel cloud.”<br/>Coach opened his mouth, part of a word coming out of his mouth before it snapped shut and he turned to Stiles with knit eyebrows. “Get away from me. That was just weird.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Suit up, wolf girl

**Reader x Pack (Not sure how exactly this will turn out. Kinda playing it by ear.)**

**Something that came to mind. I came up with a title then this happened. There will be more, or at least I plan on it, if people like it. I have a quasi-plot lined up. Let me know what you think!**

**Words:** 1,131

 **Warnings:** None that I am aware of. There may be in later parts, but this is just mainly funny fluff. There is, however, some very light swearing. 

**I do not own Teen Wolf or it’s characters. Sadly.**

Xxx

You took calming breaths to try and slow your heart rate down. Why had you decided to exercise again? Pasta is better than pain. 

Pressing your palms together in front of you in a mountain pose, having just completed a sun salutation, you took a deep breath, feeling the burn throughout your muscles, and having to admit, it felt kind of good. Relaxing, even. You should do this more often. 

An awkward throat clearing made you turn toward the bleachers, instantly freezing and regretting all your past decisions with a red stained face. 

There stood Stiles Stilinski on the edge of the lacrosse field where you had decided to do your yoga on your free period. His jaw hung open, and it didn’t look like he was breathing. Scott McCall patting him roughly on the back, making him stumble slightly, seemed to shake him back to reality. 

“Oh my God,” you muttered under your breath, watching in horror as the entire lacrosse team filtered out onto the field. Apparently it was time for practice. Your own jaw hung open just enough that you probably looked awkward. 

Your chest rose and fell from both the exertion of your workout, and now the mortification from the knowledge that they had all seen a wide array of yoga positions, thanks to you. 

Kira, bless her soul, looked a bit uncomfortable, then, with a look of pity, approached you. You could only follow her with your face, your body frozen where it stood, as she came up beside you. “That was really good! I used to do yoga all the time, but I was never _that_ flexible.”

Sure, she meant it as a compliment, but a round of sniggers and awkward coughs went around the team, cut short by Coach’s whistle. “Shut your trap, McCall. Gawking is not polite.” Looking over to Scott, you saw that he stared at Kira with his jaw agape. That seemed to be the only reaction this situation could evoke. 

Whether that was flattering or the most embarrassing thing ever, you had yet to decide. 

“McCall!” Coach practically screamed. 

“Yes, coach. Sorry, coach.” Scott spoke quickly, shaking his head with a goofy smile, looking down at the ground as Kira’s face turned just as red as yours. 

“Good. Now don’t let it happen again.”

“Don’t make any promises, coach,” Scott said quietly, looking up at Kira who looked mortified, her gaze going everywhere but at him. 

The team split up, going about their business, Coach muttering something about ‘hormonal little halfwits’, and you almost laughed at the sight you were left with, but still were too mortified to remind anyone of your presence. 

Stiles stood next to Scott, his jaw hung open again, but in a look of disgust as he stared at his friend. “Really, Scott? Was that necessary? I don’t need to know that. No one needs to know that. Hey, hey! My eyes are over here! Look at me when I’m scolding you!”

The whistle blowing startled you into movement again, jumping, before turning clumsily toward the sound, greeted by Coach’s angry face staring at you. “Hey, Yoga person!” 

“I believe they call them ‘Yogis’,” Stiles said to coach quietly, shrinking back when Coach turned his glare on him. 

“We already have one girl on the team, and you seem to have a free period, and I can’t make a comment about how all that flexibility would be great on the field without someone probably filing charges against me, so let me make this short and simple.”

“Too late,” Stiles muttered under his breath, smiling behind his hand when you unsuccessfully tried to hold back a snort. 

“Have you ever played lacrosse?” Coach went on, staring you down as if this were a matter of life or death. 

“No….” You spoke hesitantly. “I mean, I help Stiles and Scott, and now Kira, out sometimes, tossing the ball but-”

“Do you _want_ to play lacrosse?” Why was he so intense?

“Um-”

He took several steps toward you, holding a lacrosse stick in his hand, shaking it while he spoke to you for emphasis, then planting it firmly down on the ground. “Do you have what it takes to wield this _weapon_?”

His eyes were starting to scare you. “I-”

“McCall! Stilinski! Yukimura! And all you other little pests that hang out with Yogi here!”

Your three friends along with Isaac and Liam popped their heads up, jogging over to whatever the hell was going on. 

“Does she have what it takes?”

They all looked at one another, before Stiles spoke with an evil grin. “There’s a reason we call her Twister, sir. She bends like the board game, but is as ferocious as the funnel cloud.”

Coach opened his mouth, part of a word coming out of his mouth before it snapped shut and he turned to Stiles with knit eyebrows. “Get away from me. That was just weird.”

The pack went back to what they had been doing, obviously listening in. 

“She’s got what it takes, and a little extra,” you heard Malia’s voice call from the bleachers. 

You raked a hand down your face. This was easily one of the most embarrassing days of your life. 

Standing up straight, he looked over to your friend. “Care to put money on that, Tate?”

“Would I be here if I wasn’t?”

“And that is why I became a coach. That right there!” He pointed at Malia, and you shared confused looks with the rest of the pack, including Malia. 

Mason showed up, leaning against the bleachers, his head hung in a slow shake, his shoulders rising and falling in a silent laugh. Looking up, and catching your eye, he mouth an ‘I’m sorry’, but continued to chuckle as he went to the bleachers to sit beside Malia. 

Handing you the stick, rather forcefully, Coach became intense again. “Show me what you got, kid.” As he walked away you heard him muttering under his breath, “Damn bendy straw. That whole thing is unnatural. Nobody should be able to bend that way.”

Staring at the stick in your hand in what could only be sheer terror, you looked up at the sound of chuckles, seeing the pack finding this very amusing. 

Reaching up, you caught a helmet flying at your head out of instinct, turning your face slowly to look at it, then up at a maniacal looking Stiles. 

“Suit up, wolf girl,” you heard him whisper, knowing you heard him. 

“Think fast!” Again, out of instinct, you reached the stick out and caught a ball inches from your face. 

Following the sound of muttered curses, you met Coach’s eyes as he muttered on about ‘losing money again because of the damn pip squeaks’, and he stilled. “Greenberg did it.”


	2. Intense

**Reader x Pack (Not sure how exactly this will turn out. Kinda playing it by ear.)**

**Something that came to mind. I came up with a title then this happened. There will be more, or at least I plan on it, if people like it. I have a quasi-plot lined up. Let me know what you think!**

**Words:** 1,046

 **Warnings:** None that I am aware of. There may be in later parts, but this is just mainly funny fluff. There is, however, some very light swearing. 

**I do not own Teen Wolf or it’s characters. Sadly.**

Xxx

Your heart pounding in your chest once again, you narrowed your eyes at Coach, probably making a very Stiles-like face in the process. 

After a short stare off, Coach looked away, pretending to mess with his clipboard. Glancing up briefly, before looking back down to the board, he yelled much louder than necessary. “Well?! What are you waiting for? Go suit up!” Kira began to pull you along to the locker room, mumbling about a spare uniform, when Coach’s voice stopped you again. “What are you doing? Get that damn foam stretching mat off my field!” 

When you rolled your eyes, walking slowly back to your mat, you startled as his whistle began to bleat incessantly. “Hustle! Hustle! Hustle!” And despite every sarcastic remark in your body just begging to come out, you nodded, jogging the rest of the distance, rolling the mat quickly, and jogging back to a waiting Kira on the sidelines. 

After changing into the spare pair of gloves, fumbling with the straps as you made your way back to the field, you heard an unfamiliar voice mumbling something about ‘I bet there’s another reason they call her Twister’, the suggestive tone and obvious smell giving away the hidden meaning. 

You heard Isaac and Liam growl lowly, the hair on the back of your neck standing on end, and you looked at Scott, his eyes flashing red briefly, his grip twisting tightly against his stick. 

Tightening the last of your straps, you mumbled, “Guys, it’s okay. They just saw a downward dog for the first time. Probably the first time they ever saw any kind of _position_ at all. You should pity them. Not kill them.”

The growls turned to laughter, and you felt proud of yourself for defusing the situation, your hand going for the helmet you carried on your hip under one arm, when you tripped on the end of a lacrosse stick being stuck out at the last minute. 

The freshmen began to chuckle, and you heard what was practically snarls from your packmates as you began to fall.

But the chuckles faded to wide eyes and the snarls to smiles, when you tucked and rolled, rising to one knee, your helmet still perfectly at your side, and your head ducked down.

You smirked at the smell of fear radiating off the freshmen in waves, even hearing a muttered, “Oh, shit.”

“Scott, toss me my stick,” you whispered, trying desperately not to laugh when he said a quiet but amused, “Show off,” under his breath before hurling the stick in your direction.

Of course you caught it, no problem. The collective gasp, and the tinkle of Coach’s whistle falling out of his mouth made your heart pound in your chest, and you lifted your head, still wearing the smirk as you rose to your feet.

You knew you had made an entrance when you heard Mason whisper, “Intense.”

“Who’s ready to play?”

Xxx

Coach started you on goal. 

The pack seemed to find it amusing to watch as the freshmen tried to get ball after ball past you, and you simply stuck your stick left and right, with little effort. 

Soon people got creative, and had you doing some acrobatics to catch the balls, and the pack started having fun with this. 

Then they decided to mess with you the rest of practice, and it became a kind of sibling rivalry between all of you. Insults and banter were hurled just as fast as the balls flew your way. 

“Okay. This is just sad,” Coach said to the rest of the team after blowing his whistle. “And boring. Greenberg, you’re on goal!”

Finally getting the chance to stand still, and frankly, breathe, you raised your eyebrows at Stiles as you got in line. “‘Twister’?”

He shrugged with a grin, and you shook your head with a chuckle. 

Your turn in line had come, and you managed to make every ball into the net. 

“Okay, hold up!” Coach hollered, tooting his whistle several times for unneeded emphasis. “This isn’t a test! Even _I_ could get a ball past Greenberg.” Your stomach sank as you could sense what was coming next. “Lahey! Goal! Now!”

Despite your sinking feeling, you got every shot successfully past your packmate. With a smug smile, you went to the back of the line, leaning over on your knees to catch your breath. 

You all but groaned at the whistle. “McCall! Stilinski! Two on ones!”

And at that point, you did groan. Making it past the first few times, you got tired, and coach could tell. His smile was a bit unsettling. “Lahey! Dunbar! Switch!”

You heard Stiles muttering about how this couldn’t end well. And you couldn’t have agreed more. However, you managed to make it past Liam all but once. 

You glared at Liam as he sent you a smug smirk when the whistle blowing practically sent you out of your skin. “Stilinski, McCall? Switch with Yukimura and _Yogi_ over here.”

As you passed by Stiles, he said softly, “‘Yogi’…. I like it.”

“Shut up, Stilinski. Just go get in line and get ready to get your ass kicked.”

You glanced over at Malia just to make sure she wasn’t going to kill you if you broke her boyfriend. She looked worried, and nodded an ‘ok’ along with a shrug of her shoulders. 

Looking forward, you saw Stiles looking between the two of you, his expression much like his initial reaction earlier in the day. 

“I made a bet!” She said, wincing slightly. 

“Don’t worry, Stiles. I’ll go easy on you.”

Narrowing his eyes at you, leveling his glare your way, he shot back. “I was more concerned for you, actually. You’re looking awfully tired.”

You shrugged. “Sorry. Side effect of being awesome all day. You should try it sometime.”

You bit back a chuckle when you heard Mason whisper yet again, “Intense.”

Your focus was shifted from Stiles over to your first victim, however, and you gulped. Isaac’s smile looked downright vicious. Behind him was Scott, then Stiles. 

The whistle blew and you braced yourself. 

Isaac was knocked down. Then Scott. Stiles, however made it past you and Kira, somehow, only to stop and cheer madly for himself before the two of you tackled him.


	3. Yogi

**Reader x Pack (Not sure how exactly this will turn out. Kinda playing it by ear.)**

**Something that came to mind. I came up with a title then this happened. There will be more, or at least I plan on it, if people like it. I have a quasi-plot lined up. Let me know what you think!**

**Words:** 1,322

 **Warnings:** None that I am aware of. There may be in later parts, but this is just mainly funny fluff. There is, however, some very light swearing.

  
**I do not own Teen Wolf or it’s characters. Sadly.**

Xxx

The whistle bleated incessantly in your ears, drawing closer with each shrill beat. 

As you and Kira rose to your feet, you looked down at Stiles, still flailing and making a sound somewhere between a shriek and a yell, and you couldn’t help but smile. 

He beat at the air for a few more seconds before realizing he was no longer in danger from you and your Kitsune friend, and cracked an eye open, glancing around. 

You looked at Kira with an amused smirk, and she shot one right back at you before the two of you high fived. 

In the background you could hear Isaac, Liam, and Scott snickering, and Coach grumbling to a very happy sounding Malia as he made good on their bet. 

“I-” Stiles’ voice was loud, and he stopped himself, pulling off his helmet and rising to his elbows, his face drawn in a tight line as he stared you and Kira down, his voice lowering to a sound you could only define as a shouted whisper. “I could have died! A fox and a wolf just tackled me to the ground! What was I supposed to do, not defend myself?”

“You call _that_ defending yourself?” You did a half hearted imitation of his flailing and screaming, and the pack began to laugh louder, even Malia chuckling along, Mason joining soon after when she whispered to him was was happening. You and Kira both removed your helmets as well. “I will try that next time something goes down. Who knows? Maybe I’ll kill it by making it laugh so hard….”

“I hate you,” Stiles muttered, rising to his feet, the grin tugging at his lips betraying his sentiment. 

“You know you love me. And besides, Lydia is nowhere to be found. Wouldn’t she be nearby if you were knocking on death’s door?”

“I wasn’t knocking, you were practically pounding for me-” Stiles stopped and jumped as the whistle blew right behind his head, turning to come face to face with a scowling Coach, making him jump once again, moving to be behind you and Kira, Coach flashing a toothy - and terrifying - grin of amusement around the whistle briefly, before practically spitting it out of his mouth. 

His eyes were so intense, and it made your heart race with anxiety. It was like he was going to either murder you or hug you, and the inability to tell which was the terrifying part. Almost like a comic book villain. 

“Yogi!” He yelled your newfound nickname even though he was less than three feet from you. 

“Yes, Coach?” You yelled right back, and he winced, covering his ears. 

“Geeze, I’m right here! No need to yell!” Shaking his head as if to rid himself of something, he stared you down. “We have a game coming up next week.” His voice had lowered, but he still looked grumpy. 

“Yes, I was planning to attend,” you said diplomatically, not quite sure where this was going. Your heart beat sped up, and you took a deep breath to try and calm the hammering in your chest. You were afraid of things you didn’t know, didn’t understand, and ironically enough, you seemed to face that everyday, being a supernatural creature in the supernatural capital of probably the entire world. 

He took a step closer, grinning, and this time you actually gulped from the intensity of his stare. His eyes were wide, and almost wild, and you narrowed your eyebrows at the small spark of hope you saw in them. “How would you like to attend from the field?”

Your heart was beating like a humming bird now. “Are you asking me to-”

“Welcome to the team, Yogi!” He said, his grin turning soft, and his eyes crinkling at the edges in the first genuine smile you had seen on him. You could get used to this Coach. He was almost like a big teddy bear, but then the whistle came back up, it’s shrill shrieking resumed, and you decided that he was the most annoying teddy bear you had ever seen. 

Turning toward the pack, your jaw hanging open, they all tackled you into one giant group hug, congratulating you, and patting you on the back, ruffling your hair, and someone, you weren’t quite sure who, gave you a slap on the butt. 

“Woaaaaah,” you said, backing away slightly, arms held out in front of you, fully extended. “Who just touched my butt?”

They all feigned innocence, holding their arms up in surrender. 

Bumping into someone, you turned around and ran right into Mason and Malia, who wore ear to ear grins. Malia shrugged. “Stiles says it’s a tradition in the locker room, sort of an initiation to the team, so Mason and I thought-”

You began to laugh loudly, doubled over at the waist, and tossing your helmet to the side, before you hugged both of them in excitement. 

You saw Lydia on the edge of the field, and your heart dropped. Something had to be wrong. She hated coming here ever since Peter…. Jogging over, your friends hot on your heels, you stopped short, noticing the smile on her face. “Is something wrong?”

“No, no. No bodies to report of. God, I wish I didn’t have to ever say that…. But I heard there is a new member of the team!” Her voice grew louder near the end, and you smiled at your friend, wincing as her excited shriek almost became one of her signature screams, accepting the hug she gave you, bouncing slightly along with her. “It’s about time we start beating the boys at their own game. Now, come on. I used to date the capitan-” a groan went around from all of the guys, and silenced with one look from the banshee. “What? I did! So I know just what Y/N is going to need to buy.”

You groaned. “Go buy it without me! You know I hate shopping!” A look is all it took. “Fine. I’ll meet you at the car in about 10 minutes. Kira? You are coming, too. And Malia. I am not going alone.” Malia reacted much like you had, but Kira nodded excitedly and smiled.

As the pack split ways, Isaac hung back and walked with you, a shit eating grin on his face. 

“Oh, shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything!” He said defensively, his face still a wide grin. 

“This,” you gestured in a circle to his face, “this whole smirky, gleeful, maniacal thing you got going on here? It emits its own sound. The sound of sass.” He snorted as you continued, “and I am not in a sassy Isaac mood right now. Lydia and shopping and lacrosse all somehow mixed. I never thought I would live to see the day.”

Isaac threw an arm around your shoulders. “I never thought such a day would have a _reason_ to exist.” He looked down at you, his grin subdued and genuine. “But I’m glad it does.”

“Aw, am I getting an honest to goodness, genuine Isaac Lahey moment, or did I enter some alternate universe?”

He removed his arm from your shoulders, lifting it over your head, and walking ahead of you. “Yup. Moments over.”

“Lahey! You called after him right before he walked into the locker room. 

He spun on his heels, one hand gripping the doorway, his jaw set in a way to try and look annoyed, but you knew him better than that. He was trying not to laugh. Raising his eyebrows at you, you smirked. “Take a shower. You smell.”

“Ha! You’re one to talk, _Yogi_.” And with that he disappeared into the locker room. 

Wrinkling your nose, you tentatively lifted your right arm and gave a cautious whiff, your eyes going wide and your jaw dropping open. “Do I always smell like this?” You mumbled, practically running to the showers in the girls locker room.


End file.
